


Jailbait

by Yaoiteen1001



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, F/M, M/M, Prison, Prison Sex, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiteen1001/pseuds/Yaoiteen1001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These chapters aren't beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Comment with likes and dislikes, I totally need it!</p></blockquote>





	1. Prosecuted

Stiles shuffled down the aisle that lay between the rows of seats leading up to where everything happened. He stopped at the little wooden gate seperating the ones sitting, and the ones testifying. A police officer used it open just enough for him to slip through, and head to the defendants side, sitting next to the lawyer he had been appointed because his father couldn't pay for one off his sheriffs salary. His knees bounced up and down nervously. Stiles heart was racing and he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as much as he could within the restrictions of the handcuffs. He never once thought that this was what would've happened when he called the police about a month ago. The night that turned his life inside out and fucked him, royally. His lawyer, Scott McCall, saw his nervousness and placed a hand on his knee, giving him a reassuring look. "It'll be alright," he said, before the judge banged his gavel to announce the start of the trial.

Stiles was one of many being called up to testify. Most of the people who went up before him were cops, all with the same thought: Stiles was guilty. They gave as much evidence and convincing faces s they could within their time restrictions. He was called up about an hour into the case, making his heart race so fast, he thought he was going to have a stroke or something. He managed to get to the chair before his legs turned to jelly, collapsing from beneath him. He gulped louder than he wanted.

"So, Mr. Stilinski, where were you on the night of April 17th, 2013?" Oh, how cliche, Stiles thought to himself.

"I was with my mother, heading home from a lacrosse game I had just played in," he replied as calmly as he could, trying not to bust out into tears n front of everyone.

"Who was driving?"

"I was."

"Okay, we're you uh... under the influence of any alcoholic substances of any kind of drugs."

"I had taken medication for my ADHD around five in the afternoon," Stiles replied, hoping that didn't harm his case.

"When were you driving home?" The prosecuting attorney placed her hands on the counter in front of the chair Stiles was in, looking him in the eyes and probably giving the court room and eyeful.  
  
"We were driving home 'round eight in the afternoon." He stared back, not faltering or looking away.

"Would you mind telling us what happened?"

"Uh, we were driving down this road that was nearly empty. It was raining, almost hailing, so it was hard to see. I saw a guy on the side of the road, sticking his thumb out like a hitchhiker, so I stopped to ask if he needed help. He seemed nice at first, but once I looked away, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me from the car. He hit me a few times," Stiles said, pointing to the nearly faded bruises and cuts on his face. "After me, he went after my mother... with a knife. I tried getting to my feet but I was too weak and dizzy. When I finally could get up, the guy had left with the car and my mom was n the road, lying in her own pool of blood." Stiles used all his might to not cry right there and then.

"Uh-huh. What really happened, Stiles?" The attorney pulled her lips into a fine line, and stared at him over the rim of her glasses.

"That's what really happened," Stiles insisted, wiping a tear from his eyes.

"See, what I think really happened was that you killed your mother," the attorney said, walking over to the jury, making sure they could hear nice and clear.

"No, I would never..."

"I have countless reports of yelling from your home a few nights before the 17th. Witnesses reported that they could hear you yelling at that dear, old mother of yours."

"I hadn't taken my meds that day and I wasn't feeling the best. Every teenager has fights with their parents." Almost as soon as the sentence left Stiles mouth, he immediately knew what the response would be.

"Yeah, but not all teenager's mothers die not long after." She walked around in the little space she had. "People, can you see that temping holes in his story. A random stranger happened to murder his mother. Nothing like that has happened before." The attorney was almost yelling.

The rest of the trial, Stiles memory was fuzzy for. He watched but he wasn't listening.

He watched as the jury announced him guilty.

He watched as the officers took him away.

He watched as his old life was shattered, and replaced by a morbid new one.

They arrived at the prison that was an hour out of town around seven. He had to get dressed in a red jumpsuit, while someone took his clothes away to god knows where. He had to sign papers saying that whatever happened in the prison wasn't anyone's fault. He was assigned to cell 125, cell mates with a guy called Isaac Lahey. The officer left him in the cell with a blanket and a pillow. Right now, it was what they called 'happy hour', which was when the cell's doors are open for everyone to walk around. Stiles stayed in bed, holding hi blanket, his head on the pillow. "So, what ya in for?" Isaac asked, sitting up in his bed.

"Killing my mother," Stiles replied. Isaac's eyes went wide for a second, then he returned to normal. "You?"

"This guy at my school, Jackson, accused me of rape. I tried telling people I was innocent, but my friends didn't even believe me, and even testified against me."

"I'm innocent too, but nobody believes me," Stiles said, dangling his legs over the side of the bed. Isaac gave him a sympathetic look.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you to the guys," Isaac said, standing up. Stiles followed him to the lounge area that had several tables. A group of guys sat around a table, playing cards. The other guys, Stiles noticed, wore black jumpsuits. The one they call Danny, wore a tank top, and the top of his jumpsuit hung around his waist. Another man they called Boyd was dealing cards, chewing on a toothpick. There was a girl within the group. She kept her dirty blond hair hidden beneath a cap. She called herself Erika. Isaac introduced Stiles, and everyone greeted him with a runt or quiet hello. After another game or two of cards, a fit guy walked over to the group. He wore the same black jumpsuit as the rest, and wore his hair up into a spike in the front. He had green eyes that could pierce or melt the soul. He nodded to the rest, but looked at Stiles.

"Who're you?"

"Um..."

"This is Stiles, he just arrived today," Isaac interjected, easing the tension.

"Answer me this, are you innocent?"

"Y-yeah," Stiles replied, gulping, noticeably.

"Good, then you belong in this group. I'm Derek," he said, holding out his hand. Stiles took it, giving a bold shake.

When Derek sat down, Stiles asked Isaac, "What does he mean group?"

"There are two big groups in this prison," Isaac replied, "we are one of the groups. We call ourselves the Innocent. The other group calls themselves the Alphas, whom have actually killed people." Stiles nodded in response, understanding a little more. "The Alphas wear green jumpsuits, so if you see them, just walk away." They ended their conversation just in time, because Derek patted the seat next to him, motioning for Stiles to sit. He did so, and joined the game of poker they were playing. Stiles won a few shower tickets and meal cards, which lightened his mood.

Around ten, the guards rounded everyone not their cells. Derek shared a cell with Danny, who's cell was right next to Stiles and Isaac's. Stiles had Isaac up for an hour talking, then he guard slammed on their cells bars, telling them to go the fuck to sleep. They took the hint.

. o O 0 O o .

Stiles woke up early in the morning, his happiness from the night before lingering, but was quickly replaced by the morbid realization that he was in prison. He rubbed the tears from his eyes and sat up in bed, hoping to find anything in his head that would distract him from this hell hole. The only good ing that had come from this was the fact that he met nice people that were innocent, or claimed to be, but he decided to believe them.

He felt an arm slither over his shoulder and grip him reassuringly. He saw Isaac thought the tears in his eyes, which made him cry even more. "It's alright," Isaac said, "everyone goes through this. Even Derek needed a bit of a lift up after he got here."

"How long have you been here?" Stiles managed to choke up.

"Two years," Isaac replied, as if it was no big deal. Stiles hugged Isaac, feeling that his self pity was undeserved. "I don't ask for anything, except that you don't pity me, okay."

"Okay," Stiles said, nodding his head. A bell rang and the doors opened.

"Breakfast," Isaac informed Stiles. Isaac showed him to the food, and told him what and what not to get. He led Stiles to the Innocents table, which had a Treskilion drawn in the center. Stiles poked at the food on his plate as the others shuffled to the table, sleepily. The only one that looked awake was Danny. He looked as if he had been up for an hour, prepping himself for this moment. Danny even had good posture when he sat and ate, which made Stiles wonder what he was accused of that was bad enough to end up in here. Stiles managed to shovel what seemed like plastic eggs down his throat before he was full.

Each of them playfully nudged and joked as they ate. Even Erika joined in on some of the more sexist of the jokes, which made Stiles wonder if she was a lesbian, of bi. He actually thought this group was much better than his friends back home. When everyone had finished was when they came. The green jumpsuit clad men, strolling down the hall from a different section of cells on the second floor towards the lounge. The leader of the group strutted over the grates like he was the king of the world, and the rest followed like they thought the same. Out of the group, there was only one girl, and Stiles saw twins in the group as well. He wondered what they had done to end up here.

Isaac leaned over and said, "The girls name is Kali, the twins are Ethan and Aiden, and the big one is Ennis. And the leaders named is Deucalion." Stiles watched as the twin identified as Ethan winked at Danny, and Danny smiled in response. Stiles chuckled to himself. They descended the stairs and grabbed there food, and sat at a table across the lounge.

Derek whispered in Stiles ear, "Come with me," which scared Stiles, the walked to his cell. Stiles followed, sitting on what he guessed was Derek's bed. "If you want to be part of this group, you have to get the tattoo. It's kind of like a contract."

"Tattoo? Of what!?"

"A Treskilion of course," Derek replied, pulling out the tools necessary for this job.

"Uh, okay," Stiles agreed with a bit of hesitation. "Where?" he wondered.

"Take your shirt off," was how Derek responded, cleaning the needle, and plugging the machine in. Stiles did so, nervously. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't fit. He was skinny and most everyone knew it. It didn't help with his ADHD, because it made him scary and look like a crack addict. He placed his shirt on the bed, neatly. Derek handed him a balled up piece of cloth.

"What's this for?"

"This is going to hurt," Derek said, turning the machine on. Stiles gulped before placing the cloth in his mouth. He bit down hard and braced himself. Derek placed the needle on his right pec. It was painful, but tolerable. It wasn't as everyone made it seem. When they finished, Derek placed a piece of plastic over it, then Stiles put his shirt back on.

When they entered the lounge again, the Alphas were gone and the sun was in the middle of the sky. It had taken longer than Stiles thought. Isaac, casually, walked up to Stiles and asked, "What did you get?"

"Treskilion," Stiles replied, watching as Derek disappeared around a corner.

"Hmm," Isaac said, knitting his face into a confused look.

"What?"

"Nothing," he responded, placing a smile on his face.

. o O 0 O o .

The next day, the Alphas were the first into the lounge. Stiles had been checking out his tattoo, so he left his shirt off when he grabbed his food and sat down at the table. He removed the plastic and set it down, eating more food than he did the day before. The leader of the Alphas got up from his spot and came over to the Innocents table. He nudged Stiles, who slowly turned around, afraid of what was going to happen. "Well, hello there fresh meat, what's your name?"

"Uh... Stiles," he replied, a lump forming in his throat.

"Are you sure you belong in the Innocents, you look wild!"

"Yes." Stiles replied sternly, standing his ground.

"Well, it wouldn't matter anyway, you've been claimed."

"No I haven't."

"Yeah you have, the tattoo," Deuc replied, pointing to Stiles chest. Stiles eyes widened, before churning to Derek, who was bright red.


	2. Accusations

Stiles turned on his heels and marched towards Derek. "What does he mean claimed!" Stiles could feel his anger boiling to the brim, and then some. If he didn't get a semi believable reason within seconds, he was going to blow.

"It's so they can't take you into their group." Derek responded fast, embarrassment and guilt laced into his green eyes.

"I would go with them anyways," Stiles said, as if this was a given.

"Okay, you see the twins over there," Derek asked. Stiles turned to look at the twins, and now that he had a better look, he realized they weren't all that bad looking.

"They were parts of the Innocents, except Aiden because he was guilty. Ethan refused to leave his side, or stay in our group if we didn't let Aiden stay, so being the kind hearted souls we are, we let him stay." This earned a hearty chuckle from the Alphas. "They coaxed Aiden into joining their group and Ethan followed suit. I didn't want that happening with you, cause you seem nice enough, and they would corrupt you." Stiles sighed after Derek explained himself, the whole ordeal making a little more sense. "They mark theirs with a triangle thing." Deucalion scowled at that comment, but composed himself almost right away.

"See ya'll later," Deucalion said, turning on his heels and marching off, his groupies following behind. Almost immediately afterward, a young woman with dark brown hair that bounced at her shoulders walked up to the Innocents, branding her guard's uniform like it was a trophy.

"Hey you guys," she said, sitting down on the edge of the table. She had one hand jammed in her pocket and the other on the handle of her gun, running her thumb along it.

"Hey Allison," Derek said, turning to her, then back to Stiles. "This is Allison, she is a well known guard here, and a close friend of ours." He gave a smile that was so perfect it almost seemed fake.

"Daddy finally let me take this shift so I could see you guys." She beamed at the group, forming dimples in her cheeks.

"Daddy?" Stiles questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Her family runs this prison. Most of them are guards here, but some are doctors and teachers," Derek explained, Allison nodding along.

"Quite the family business," Stiles said. Stiles walked back to his cell, hoping to get in a few more hours of sleep. He dozed off not long after lying down.

He woke up, finding Isaac and Derek staring at him from Isaac's bed. "Hiya!" Isaac said cheerfully, giving Stiles a toothy grin.

"Hey," Stiles replied, his voice thick with sleep and eyes a bit fuzzy. He rubbed his eyes, focusing on the two men. They sat there for a little while, an awkward silence creeping in through the barred window.

"Well, I'll give you two some quality time together," Isaac said, patting Stiles knee before leaving.

"Okay," Stiles said once Isaac was out of ear shot, "if you claimed me, does that mean I'm your bitch or something, cause I'm not going to be anybody's bitch, got it!" Stiles was a bit forceful and demanding, but it didn't seem to phase Derek.

"No, your not my bitch, unless you want it," Derek replied, smiling.

"Don't flatter yourself," Stiles replied, giving him a goofy grin.

"So, how did you end up in here?" Stiles asked, genuinely curious.

"I'd rather... rather not talk about it," Derek replied, lowing his head. Stiles furrowed his eyebrows but didn't push any further. Derek gave him one last smile before leaving the cell, and his spot was quickly replaced by Isaac.

"Hey Isaac."

"Yeah?"

"What happened to the others? Danny, Boyd, Erika?"

"I don't know, I honestly never asked them, and they never told me," he replied, shrugging. Stiles nodded. He knew that if he wanted answers, he'd have to ask everyone individually.

. o O 0 O o .

He found Erika alone, in her cell. She sat on her bed, her back against the wall. Her knees were pulled up and she was writing on a notepad. Stiles knocked on the wall, letting her know he was there. "Hey," he said. She motioned him forward and patted the space next to her. He sat down, and broke the silence that came afterwards, "So, I've been asking everyone, to get to know them. How did you end up here?" He tried to be nice about asking, but came off as blunt.

"I'm epileptic, if you don't already know, and I have an older brother. Two months ago, I ran out of my meds, and my mother couldn't pay for any more. It was tough for me because I was constantly having seizures, which ended with me not going to school. Anyways, I caught my brother sneaking out one night, and questioned him till he told me what he was doing: he was going to steal some meds for me from the hospital. I wouldn't let him go without me, so we both went. We got the meds and everything was going fine till the cops showed up. I told him to run and give me the medication. The cops caught me and out me in here." She sighed at the end of her story, like it was something she told over and over again. Stiles could picture her in a rocking chair in front of the fire, with a blanket over her lap and rows of children at her feet.

"Wow!" was all Stiles could manage to say. She wasn't accused of murder, or rape, but merely stealing medication for her illness. Stiles felt pity for her, but kept it contained because h knew she wouldn't want that.

"I have an appeal in a few weeks, which might get me out of here an put into a correction home," she said, full of hope. He gave her a smile, which she returned. Stiles hugged her before leaving.

. o O 0 O o .

Danny was sitting at a table, reading a book that Stiles didn't recognize, or care to search his memory for. Danny saw him and put the book on the table. He gave Stiles a smile that formed dimples in his cheek. Danny was the most enthusiastic person there, he always lightened the tension and broke the silence.

"What's up?" Danny asked, placing his chin in his hands.

"I know I've only been here for a few days, but I was wonders how you got here?"

"In the back of a police van, handcuffed," he replied, sarcastically.

Stiles gave him an are-you-serious look.

"I was accused of killing Isaac's father."

Stiles cocked an eyebrow and said, "Did you?"

"No," Danny said because him being in the Innocents should've been enough proof.

. o O 0 O o .

Boyd had been accused of killing his parents and robbery, which he said that a group of psychotic people found his family and decided to have fun for a few days.

Stiles also found out that apparently Boyd and Erika were dating. They said it was love at first sight.

. o O 0 O o .

The guards took everyone to the showers in the afternoon, sometimes before dinner is served. There were different sections for the different groups, that were created by the inmates. Stiles usually ended up in the shower next to Derek, which gave him many viewpoints of Derek's well endowed body, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek looked in on him as well. One day, Stiles dropped the bar of soap, and watched as it landed on the tiled floor. He stared at it, foaming from the several streams of water hit it at once. He watched as it slid around his feet. He hesitated about picking it up, but decided he probably should. He had his backside to the wall and bent over, grabbing the slipper soap. He heard footsteps, and before he knew it, he felt a slap across his face. He shot up and fours Ennis walking back to the Alphas as they laughed and pointed at Stiles.

It took a Stiles a few minutes to realize what he had been slapped with, then he wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving a disgusted look on his face. The Alphas laughed harder, keeling over with amusement. Stiles bubbled with anger. He balled his fist and advanced on Ennis. Ennis turned around before Stiles crossed the area between them, and grabbed Stiles fist which flew towards his face. He squeezed Stiles hand, making Stiles yell. Now, the Innocents were at full alert, behind Stiles, ready to fight. Derek separated Ennis and Stiles, and stood in front of the embarrassed boy. Derek stood his ground.

"Do that again, Ennis, and I will have to fight you. And you don't want that!" Derek almost yelled, making the guards watch in interest.

"Please, Derek, you couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to. I am much bigger and stronger," Ennis replied, a cold look painted across his face.

"I'm stealthier. Brains definitely out does bronze, so I would win," Derek responded, shoving his face in front of Ennis'.

"Boys, boys, lets not start a fight before its time," Deucalion stepped in between the two men, holding out his hands. He had a smile spread across his face, like he was always happy or something. Derek shoved Deucalion's hand away from his chest, and went back to his shower, scrubbing off the soap of his skin. Stiles returned to his shower, soaping up.

"Thanks," Stiles whispered to Derek.

"You're part of the group. We protect our own," Derek responded, leaning against the wall, his front towards Stiles. That was definitely a view point he hadn't yet gotten, and wouldn't soon forget.


	3. Closer together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters aren't beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Comment with likes and dislikes, I totally need it!

Everyone in the prison was given a job, whether I be to deliver mail, do laundry, or even help prepare food (if they trusted you enough). Stiles got stuck with laundry duty, along with Derek and Danny. They talked quite a bit about how they were going to get through this. Stiles wanted to join them, but he knew that the chance that he was going to get out was very small.

"Where's Danny?" Stiles asked, seeing Derek walk into the room alone. Stiles was sad and happy: sad because Danny always had something interesting to say. Happy because he would finally be spending quality time alone with Derek since the whole tattoo thing.

"He is having a heart to heart with one o the Alphas," Derek replied, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs and folding them, almost housewife quality.

"Heh!" Stiles chuckled to himself. Stiles glanced over to see Derek quickly smile, then return his mouth to its usual straight line. Stiles brought a pile of clothes over to the scrubbing board and placed a jumpsuit on it. He ran a bar of soap over the clothing. It was hard work, but worked the arms. In the two weeks that Stiles had been doing it, his arms had grown substantially. Everyone noticed it too. Isaac, occasionally, pinched his biceps, telling him how he's become more of a man than when he arrived. Stiles just laughed it off, seeing that as untrue.

When Stiles finished washing the clothing, he brought it to the heat press. They weren't able to use traditional machines because it was a safety hazard. He pressed a couple pairs of boxers and watched as steam billowed to the ceiling and dissipated. When Stiles placed the next line of clothing in, he accidentally shut it on his finger, tearing a yelp from his throat. He jumped away from the heat press, grabbing onto his finger like it was saving his life. Derek came over, and snatched his hand away from him. He inspected Stiles' finger. His finger was red and a bit swollen, the tip turning purple. Derek turned it, and looked at it from all sides, as if the different angles would give him different results. Then he did something unexpected: he slipped Stiles finger into his mouth, the cool of his tongue soothing the sharp pain.

Stiles let out a little moan, that was worthy of his embarrassment that cam afterward. Derek smiled a little, releasing his finger. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Stiles replied. He forgot that his finger was throbbing uncontrollably while he was staring into Derek's coaxing green eyes. Derek turned away and continued to fold clothes, a soft pink creeping up his neck. Stiles smiled, and pressed another jumpsuit.

. o O 0 O o .

Apparently Derek's appeal was in a day. Stiles could see the tension rise, in the group and in Derek. His eyes stayed wide most of the day and he jumped whenever someone touched him. The only one that could really calm him down was Danny, and even hat was limited.

Around dinner time, a buzzing filled the mess hall, making everyone lift there heads up in curiosity. Stiles stared at the door as it swung open and a woman in a business suit entered the room. She had black hair that bounced around her shoulders and eyes that could pierce the soul. She licked her lips seductively, eyeing many of the guys. Stiles just stared as she moved quickly in the constricted grey suit. She entered Derek's cell, sitting down next to him. She said a few words that Stiles couldn't make out. When she finished in the cell, she started towards the group. "Hello, boys," she said, smiling.

"Hey Laura," the guys responded in unison.

"Who's this cute pice of meat," Laura asked, grabbing Stiles ass. He jumped slightly, his breath quickening.

"His name is Stiles," Isaac responded, looking up from the book he was reading.

"When did you get here, doll?"

"About a month ago," Stiles said, afraid of her lit up face. Her smile said innocent, but her eyes said guilty.

"Now how did a cute thing like you end up in here?"

"Accused of murdering my mother," Stiles said, his eyes watering slightly.

"Poor thing," she muttered, her eyes suddenly filling with sympathy. She patted his shoulder before leaving the mess hall.

"Who was that?" Stiles asked.

"Derek's sister... and lawyer," Isaac said, flipping a page in his book.

. o O 0 O o .

It was around noon that Derek got back from his appeal. He entered the prison, wide eyed and mouth clamped shut. He didn't all to any of the guys, he only walked into his cell and lied down. Stiles knew, along with the guys, that Derek had lost his appeal. It was only a matter of time before he actually told them.

Stiles busied himself by running around as much of the prison as he could, trying to work his lower body. They had a gym there, but the equipment as old and very dangerous, so Stiles didn't use it. He ended back at his cell, stripping away his shirt and flopping back onto his bed. After sitting in the sweltering heat of the window, which worked as a magnifier, he lifted himself from the bed. He had gotten Allison to let him into the showers alone. Before entering the large tiled room, Stiles handed Allison a shower card.

He placed his towel on a hook next to the shower head, then turned it on full blast. He sat under the shower, enjoying the short lasting warmth and listening to the patter of water against his skin. He almost didn't hear he door open, and see Derek walk in, a towel slung over his shoulder. He stared a for a few seconds, then turned towards the wall, not wanting Derek to see the confusion on his face. Derek scrubbed himself down as Stiles lathered his hair with rough shampoo that, once washed out, made his hair super soft. His hair had grown from his usual buzz cut to longer than Derek's, but still short enough to style up in the way he liked.

"You missed a spot," Derek sliced through his thoughts. He snapped back to reality from staring at a lone blue tile on the wall.

"Huh!" Stiles replied, rather loudly.

"You missed a spot... there," Derek repeated, pointing to a spot on his back where soap cringed to for all dear life. Derek rubbed it away, letting the water take card of the rest. Stiles blushed a little, looking away as Stiles stared at him.

"Uh, thanks," Stiles said, running his hands down his front. He did so in an almost seductive way, as if he was trying to lure Derek back in. It worked because Derek stole a few glances towards Stiles, the corner of his mouth pulling in a way that threatened a smile. Stiles went as far as taking the wash cloth he was using it and wringing it out above his head. This granted him a full on stare from Derek. He smiled at him, making Derek blush furiously. When the water ran cold, Stiles grabbed his towel, wrapped it around his waist, and headed out. He heard quick footsteps behind him, letting him know that Derek wasn't far behind.

. o O 0 O o .

Later that night, Stiles woke up in the middle of the night to a tapping sound coming from his wall. He could hear Isaac snoring away. He listened more intently, thinking is mind was just playing tricks on him. But again, the tapping came. He lifted his hand to the cold cement wall, and tapped his finger on it, three times. There was a pause, then four taps. He knew it was Derek almost immediately.

They continued to just tap away all night long, their conversation nearly silent, but speaking volumes.

The next day was what changed Stiles life.

He found Derek in his cell, his face in his hands, crying to himself. Stiles saw the little puddle of tears between Derek's feet. Stiles sat next to him, and lifted Derek's face from his hands. He cupped Derek's face, watching tears race down his pale red cheeks. His green eyes were deeper than Stiles had ever seen them, sucking you in once they caught you in their sight. Seeing such a strong, dominant man such as Derek cry was definitely something that broke Stiles heart.   
  
"What's wrong?" Stiles asked.

"I lost my appeal... they sentenced me thirty to life." Derek burst out full on crying. He launched himself at Stiles, who grasped him around his torso. Derek lied is head on Stiles chest, his tears drenching Stiles jumpsuit, making it almost see through. Stiles pulled Derek closer, and found Derek crawled not his lap, gripping Stiles like his life depended on it. Somehow, they ended up in laying down with Derek sprawled across Stiles chest. Stiles didn't sleep, but listened as Derek breathed heavily and snored slightly.

When Derek woke, he stared wide eyed at Stiles. Then he backed away quickly, making Stiles wake up. He sat up, watching Derek skitter off the bed, hitting the concrete floor with a thump. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Derek crawled onto the other bed, backing into the wall like he wanted to melt into it.

"What do you mean," Stiles asked, his hart skipping a beat.

"I shouldn't have done that, it was bad of me," Derek said. Derek ran out out of the cell. Stiles sat, not believing what had happened, before breaking down and running into his own. Isaac was gone, which Stiles was glad of. He slammed the cell door shut, flinging himself onto the bed. Stiles buried his face in his arms.

Stiles woke up, the cell door sliding open and closed. He looked up to see Isaac. "Hey, you alright?"

"I guess so," Stiles replied.

"Wanna tell m what happened or no?"

"Not really," Stiles said, rubbing his eyes.

Isaac lied on the bed, his back against the wall, and before he could top Stiles, Stiles had lied his head on Isaac's lap. Instinctually, Isaac ran his hand through Stiles hair, earning a comforting sigh from Stiles.

. o O 0 O o .

"I'm sorry," Derek said to Stiles, who was sitting at a table, trying to solve a crossword puzzle.

"For what?"

"The other night," Derek said, fumbling with his fingers nervously.

"What about the other night?"

"I'm sorry for breaking down," Derek replied.

"Don't be sorry," Stiles said, "it happens to the best of us. I'm just upset that you apologized for it. I thought I was making my feelings for you clear but apparently not." Stiles looked away as he felt his lower lip quiver and his eyes started to burn.

"I did," Derek said, placing his hand on Stiles shoulder.

"Did what?" A tear stained Stiles pale cheek.

"I knew how you felt, but I couldn't open myself again, not again."

"Why?"

"I was afraid of getting hurt again."

"Again?"


	4. The Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait you guys, finals were... taxing.

_Derek woke to the smell of various things burning, and to the smell of things breaking. He jolted up in bed, throwing the sheets off of his legs. He rushed to the door, grabbing the door handle without thinking about how it glowed slightly. His hand sizzled against the brass knob, and he pulled back, grabbing his wrist. He hissed at the pain and pulled away from the door. He searched his room and his eyes found his window. He lifted it open, causing the curtains to whip around from the sudden burst of wind. He crawled out onto the roof, carefully treading on the shingles, which were loose already from the many years of not being kept properly._

_He found the side of the roof that was the closest to the ground, but was still at least twenty feet from the ground. Derek jumped into the bushes below, his knees collapsing beneath him. He stumbled out of them, twigs and leaves lodged into the most uncomfortable places. He tried the front door but it was stuck, so he broke it open with his foot and a lot of leg power. A beam from the attic crashed through the second floor right in front of Derek, fire ablaze across the entire thing. He found a way around it, and made it to the stairs before realizing that they too were broken, and impossible to cross. He could hear the screams of his family echoing throughout the house, yelling for help._

_It wasn't till the firefighters came in that he left, and even then he was forced to leave. The firefighter placed him an ambulance, and sent him to the hospital. He was treated with pity for a few days, but then the court case came. They pressed and pressed and accused him of mass murder- against his own family. He had a valid story, but the question alsways came up: 'how were you the only one that got out?'_

Derek stared, blankly, at the table. Stiles stood in front of him, his arms crossed impatiently. "What do you mean again?" Stiles asked.

"About two years ago I dated a woman named Kate Argent. She seemed great, perfect actually. And I mean,the sexton was amazing," Derek stopped seeing Stiles getting uncomfortable, "but after a while, she started to... change. She got angry at me for the tiniest things, and she accused me of cheating when I would go to get groceries. So, after a big fight we had, I just left. I bad put a note on the fridge saying where I'd been, which I now realize was a bad idea. She came when I was asleep, and torched the house I was in. I got out, but my whole family was... killed. And I was left with this." He shled Stiles the burn scar on his hand. Stiles put his fingers in Derek's palm.

"I'm so sorry, Derek," Stiles said, taking Derek into a hug.

"You don't have to apologize, you didn't do anything. You confessed your love and I rejected without giving you a reason." Derk hugged back, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm glad you told me," Stiles said. Right then, a buzzer went off, signaling the opening of the front door. It opened with a creak, and a row of four men, all shackled at the ankles. All four men were built and look liked they ate nails and bricks for breakfast. The one in front had red hair, the one in back was bald, and the middle two had brown.

"They dontlook like they belong to either group. Wonder what they're going to call themselves." Stiles said.

The leader stopped and turns towards Stiles. "Were called the Ones," he said, then continued on to the south wing.

. o O 0 O o .

Stiles woke the next morning, his cell door open and Isaac was gone, probably eating. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Before he got up, Derek entered his cell, sitting down next to Stiles. They stared into each others eyes for a few seconds before Derek grabbed the back of Stiles neck and smashed his lips into Stiles. When they pulled apart, Stiles asked, "What was that for?"

"Just cuz," Derek replied, smiling. Stiles gave him a peck on the cheek before getting some breakfast. Derek joined the group not long after, rubbing various body parts of Stiles underneath the table. This made Stiles jump every so often. When everyone had grown quiet, they heard the steady, patterened footsteps coming from the south wing. The Ones entered the mess hall, in line formation. They grabbed their food and picked a table in the corner.

"Wonder why they're called the ones?" Danny said aloud.

"Who's gonna ask?" Erica spoke what was on everyones mind.

"Sure, why not," Ethan said after a long silence. He patted Danny's leg and walked to the Ones table. He sat down next to the leader, the red head. They watched as they talked, whit h ended with a formal handshake.Ethan sat next to Danny again.

"Their leader, the red head, is called Roy. The bald guy is called Adonis, and the brown haired guys are Mitch and Ike. They sag that they're called the Ones because... because they're Beacon Hills most wanted." This drew the silence out of evrybody.


	5. The Trial

The Ones didn't do much except march into the mess hall for meals, then march out, never glancing at anyone or giving anyone a death glare. Everbody else stared at them suspiciously as they shuffled between the tables, never taking their eyes off the group till they knew they were long gone. Stiles didnt mind them, but didn't say anything becasue he could sense the tension in the Innocents as the Ones marched by their table, leaving almost a cold air behind to hover over the table. Whenever Derek looked worried about them, Stiles squeezed his hand and reassured him with a peck on the cheek. 

Ethan was pretty much a part of the group now, he almost never hung out with his own group, and Danny was trying to convince him that he should just leave that group and joins theirs. Ethan was close to 'transfering', just a few more small conversations with Danny and he was sure Ethan would join their group in no time.

. o O 0 O o .

Later that day, the buzzer went off and the door swung open, long legs with orange hair stepped through. She wore a black suit with matching high heels. She carried a bedazzled suitcase that she had slung over her shoulder on a strap. She fixed her glasses, which were sliding down her nose, by pushing them up with one finger, seductively. She marched through the mess hall with purpose, and stopped at Stiles cell. "Excuse me young man," she said, "have you seen a boy about your age with brown hair, pretty cute." 

"Isaac?" Stiles asked. 

"Nope."

"Danny?"

"Yep, that's him. He's got his appeal today." 

"The cell over," Stiles said, pointing to the wall where his bed was snuggled against. 

"Thanks," she replied, walking out of sight. Isaac practically bounced into the cell. 

"Hey," he said, smiling.

"Hi. Did you see Danny's lawyer? It's like they all went to sexy attorney school or something."

"The red head?"

Stiles nodded.

"Her names Lydia. Have  _you_ seen her?" 

"Mmm-hmm. She's here because Danny has his appeal today." Stiles grabbed a book from underneath his mattress and flipped it open to the page with a red silk bookmark. Stiles looked up as Danny and Lydia walked passed the cell, her heels creating an annoying rythm. Isaac caught Lydia behind the arm, creating a gap between her and Danny. 

"Does Danny have a chance of winning this?" Isaac asked, concern in both his eyes and voice. 

"About ninety, ten percent," Lydia replied, running over the calculations in her head. 

"He's got ninety percent chance. Wow, that's great!" 

"No, he's got about ten percent chance of winning," Lydia corrected him, pushing her glasses up again. Stiles could practically see Isaac's heart jump out of his chest and shatter into a million unfixable pieces on the cement ground. Stiles felt pity for Danny and bad for Isaac because Isaac got Danny into this. Lydia shurgged off Isaac's hand, and continued towards the door. Just before she reached it, though, Isaac yelled at her.

"Danny's innocent!" This made Lydia stop in her tracks, her hair billowing around her head. She turned on her heels, making Danny look back, not having heard Isaac. She sped towards him, stopping just short of his face. 

"How do you figure?"

"Cause... cause I killed my father," Isaac responded, "not Danny. He was just covering up for me." 

"Are you willing to repeat this in a court of law, under oath?" she asked, her excitement spiked all of a sudden. 

Isaac took a loud gulp and there was a long pause. "Yes."

"Terrific!" 

. o O 0 O o .

The trial was about a week later, Isaac and Danny went, escorted by there lawyers, each eaqually hot. Derek was upset by this, it even brought him to tears. Stiles just tried to comfort him as best as possible. Erica and Boyd just stared awkwardly, not knowing what to do but be silent. Isaac and Danny returned around dinner time, joining them at the table. They both looked like they had been punched in the gut. There was a long silence that crept over the table, causing everyone to look into their laps.

"How did the trial go?" Stiles asked.

"Not good," Danny and Isaac said at the same time. Everyone looekd at the two of them.

"Danny has been dropped of all charges and he's going home within the week," Isaac said. Everybody smiled, causing Danny to do so, but sudden realization hit all of them within seconds.

"What about you Isaac?" Boyd asked.

"I... have been sentenced to death, for both rape and second degree murder." A tear rolled down his face, staining his pale skin pink.

"Why did you do it?" Erica asked. Boyd gave her the death stare, making her cower.

"It's alright Boyd, you guys deserve to know," Isaac said, "he wasnt a very nice father. He made it a weekly event to get drunk on Sundays, come home, and beat me. I would be so badly bruised that I couldnt go to school the next day."

"Why didn't you report him?" Stiles said.

"Cause I didn't want to go to a foster home, so I stayed quiet." 

There was a pause. 

"So, one day, I had enough. I grabbed his gun, and shot him three times. Danny had gotten there within seconds because he lived close by. He took the gun from me and told me to run." Isaac looked into his palms, tears streaming down his face now. Danny wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He told him it'd be alright, rocking back and forth. 


	6. Gone

Danny was let out within a few days. It took a good hour for them to say their goodbyes, passing around many hugs and tears. Even Derek shed a tear when he, tightly, hugged Danny. He promised he'd write when he could, and that if anyone wanted to send him a letter, to give it to Ethan.

After he'd left, Ethan still sat at their table, earning him sideways glances and mean looks from the Alphas table, especially from Aiden. He had fully integrated into their group, accepting that he just didn't belong in the Alphas group anymore.

. o O 0 O o . 

After Danny had left, everyone was awkward around Isaac. They usually didn't speak to him, for fear of making him upset. And when they did, they only spoke a few words. Stiles was really the only one to have full conversations with him because he knew what it felt like, the sudden realization that your life was over and that you had almost no friends to rely on. But one day, Isaac had enough.

"Why the hell is everybody avoiding me like the fucking plague?!" he shouted, earning a glance from the guards across the mess hall. 

No one spoke...

"You won't even talk to my now, Jesus..."

"Isaac," Stiles said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "they just don't want to upset you."

"How... would they upset me?"

"They're afraid they'll so the wrong thing, so they skipped the talking part altogether. Although that really wasn't the best idea." Stiles gave the table a glare. Everyone looked into their laps, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," Erica said, standing up from where she sat. She shuffled around the table and drew Isaac into a tight embrace. Tears flowed down her cheeks, onto Isaac's jumpsuit. 

"It's okay."

. o O 0 O o . 

The next day at breakfast, everybody chatted away like what had happened the past few days kind of... didn't. It wasn't till the end of breakfast that Stiles notcied something. 

"Where's Erica?" he asked, stopping everybody midsentence. Boyd was the first to look around, noticing she wasn't actually at the table. 

"I don't know," Boyd replied. Stiles got up and walked to her cell, finding she wasn't there. 

It was then did they hear a scream, then a thud not far away. 

"Where'd that come from?" Ethan asked. 

"The Alphas wing, I think," Derek replied, getting up. They all entered the Alphas territory, wondering where the scream had come from. Stiles and Ethan were leading. Ethan knew the corridors like the back of his hand. He led them to a deserted cell block, where at the end of the hall was Deucalion holding a body slumped over on the ground. Stiles ran towards him, the rest of the group not far behind. 

"What hap..." Stiles started before realizing who he was holding.

Erica lay lifeless in his arms, her neck twisted in a way it shouldn't have been. Stiles looked up to see the second floor balcony just above them. 

Before anyone could do anything, Boyd pounced, full of anger and wanting revenge. He pinned Deucalion to the floor, punching him in the face. "What did you do!?" Boyd yelled at him. He punched him again, and again. Each blow made a more sickening sound than the last. Boyd stopped punching him for a second, them jammed his thumbs into Deucalion's eyes. He didn't stop when Deucalion screamed, he kept going till blood covered his fingertips and ran down the sides of Deucalion's face. Everyone was too shocked to stop it. Except for Derek.

He pulled Boyd away, throwing him to the group. But he just left Deucalion on the ground clutching hi face in agony. A guard ran up to Deucalion, asking what happened. But that answered itself. The guard took one look at Boyd's hand and took out his night stick. "Down on the ground!" he yelled, lifting his hand in the air. 

Boyd stood still.

"DOWN ON THE GOUND!" the guard yelled, more forceful than before. Boyd dropped to his knees, allowing the guard to handcuff him. 

Boyd was locked away in a containment room. He was even put into a straight jacket. Deucalion denied killing her, but nobody believed him, not even his own group. 

. o O 0 O o .

Stiles found Isaac in the cell later that night, humming to himself, while looking at a picture that was battered and looked like it had been folded in a million different ways. 

"What's up?" Stiles asked, sitting down on his bed. 

"I just... I'm scared. I'm due to die tomorrow," Isaac replied, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

"It'll be alright. I won't tell you what you've probably already heard, but that you'll finally get out of here." Stiles gave him a weak smile, trying to cheer him up. 

Tomorrow, would change everything. 

 


End file.
